


Green and Blue

by BanachTarski



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Dark Luke Skywalker, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Face-Sitting, I haven't decided yet, Light Bondage, Maybe Maybe Not, Porn With Plot, Post-ROTJ AU, Power Dynamics, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:35:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28949046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BanachTarski/pseuds/BanachTarski
Summary: Luke Skywalker killed his father. Endor was destroyed. The Empire is victorious. A shell of himself, Luke is the Emperor's new apprentice. He does whatever his master asks of him. So when Palpatine introduces him to the beautiful, irascible Mara Jade, and orders him to do the unthinkable, to "make her yours," Luke does it.“Do you disagree with my teaching?” asked the Emperor, low and ominous.Luke shook his head by rote. “No, Master,” he said. “I will do as you say.”He hates himself for it. He hates who he has become. But maybe, just maybe, he can find himself yet.
Relationships: Mara Jade/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a dark, gritty story. If that's not your cup of tea, by all means, don't drink it. For those of you who are just a bit sick in the head (and I say that affectionately -- I am one of you, clearly) I hope you enjoy. This was originally going to be a oneshot, but I think it will span three chapters, or possibly more.

Luke was on one knee, genuflecting before his master.

"I sense strength in you, Skywalker," said the Emperor. "Great strength. But also great weakness. Regret. Remorse. Diffidence."

"No, Master," said Luke.

"Look at me, boy."

Luke did.

"You killed your father, Darth Vader. You assumed your rightful spot by my side. And yet, you feel unworthy."

Luke did not deny it.

"The Rebel Alliance is defeated. The galaxy is ours to rule, as master and apprentice. And yet."

"I am your humble servant," said Luke.

"You have no ambition," said the Emperor. "No drive. That is what makes a Sith great. Not dithering obedience."

Luke winced.

"Your sister," said the Emperor. "Your thoughts dwell on her."

"She could be an ally to us," said Luke.

"No," said the Emperor. "She had her chance. Now she is our enemy."

"I will not destroy her," said Luke.

The Emperor interlaced his fingers. "We shall see," he said. "Rise, my apprentice."

Luke rose.

"You ask me why I have not yet given you your Sith title. This is why." The Emperor waved a dismissive hand at him. "You are hesitant. Indecisive. The Jedi weakness still dictates you."

"With your teaching, Master, I will become strong."

The Emperor leaned back in his throne. "Yes," he said. "Very good. I will mold you into the man you are meant to become. The man your father failed to be."

Luke bowed his head.

The com inlaid in the Emperor's throne crackled to life. _"My Emperor?"_ said a voice.

"Yes?"

" _She is here."_

"Good. Send her in."

Luke tilted his head inquisitively.

"I have a test for you, my apprentice," said the Emperor, smiling sharply.

"A test, Master?"

"Indeed," said the Emperor. "Come. Stand by my side."

Luke did. He unwittingly replicated his father, hands held behind his back as he stood beside his master's throne.

The doors to the throne room entered. Two red-robed Imperial Guards escorted a woman from the turbolift up the stairs. Luke watched with a blank face. The woman strode with confidence, hips swinging, boots clicking. She and the guards came to a stop six feet from the Emperor's throne.

"Leave us," said the Emperor to the guards.

As they departed, Luke looked the woman over from head to toe. He felt his heartrate pick up. She was perhaps the most beautiful person he had ever seen. She had flaming red hair, long and wavy. It draped over her left shoulder and tapered to her stomach. Her eyes were a piercing emerald. Her skin was pale, like ivory, a wintry contrast to her jet black suit. He tried not to stare, but failed miserably. The suit was tight-fitting, hugging her curves, accentuating her breasts. Luke's face felt hot with embarrassment. What was wrong with him? Did he have no shame?

"This is Mara Jade," said the Emperor. "She is my most loyal and effective operative."

For the first time, Luke saw the lightsaber strapped to her belt.

"You are Force-sensitive," said Luke.

"I am," said Mara.

"A powerful one," said the Emperor. "But fear not, my apprentice. She is no threat to you."

Mara's brow twitched. Evidently, she disagreed with this assessment.

"I do not fear this woman," said Luke, with as much disdain as he could muster.

"Prove it," said the Emperor.

Luke frowned. "Master?"

"Duel her."

Mara seemed unsurprised. She drew her weapon.

"But –" Luke stopped himself. He would not question his master's orders. "Yes, Master," he said. Luke drew his own weapon.

"Good," said the Emperor, cackling.

Luke and Mara watched each other. Neither yet made a move. Luke took the opportunity to look her over. He let his eyes rove up and down. Her slender profile, lean and muscular. Her soft face, the gentle slope of her cheeks. This was not the face of a seasoned warrior. How could it? She was an angel.

That was his first mistake. Without warning, Mara leapt at him. The Emperor, mere feet away, did not flinch. He applauded as they sparred.

"Prove yourselves to me," he said with glee. "Prove yourselves worthy of my teaching!"

Luke retreated. Mara's blade was red. His was green. They clashed; the red a blur, the green capably keeping up. Mara seemed to grow frustrated that her vicious assault had not born quick results. She snarled at him.

"You are undisciplined," said Luke, goading her.

Mara did not respond. She redoubled her efforts, but in so doing, she opened herself up to a counterattack. Luke took advantage. Her flank exposed, Luke swiped upwards with his blade. She yelped in pain, staggered back. Her suit was ripped, a stripe of red along her ribcage. Luke looked at the wound and felt remorse. He heard his master's reproach in his head. _Remorse is for the weak!_ Luke's resolve hardened. He pressed forward.

Mara was not yet defeated. She kept pace with him, retreating as he had moments before. Yet her disposition was to offence, not defense. Panic began to set in. He could see it in her eyes, red reflecting against green. She backed away, her parries increasingly desperate, absorbing blow after blow. Luke's inertia was too great. She couldn't repel him. They reached the base of the stairs. With a powerful overhead strike, Luke knocked the lightsaber clean out of her hands. It fell down the stairs, and when Luke kicked her in the chest, Mara fell with it.

He watched, breathing heavily, as she tumbled. She bounced twice before slamming to the ground on her back. Luke loomed above. She looked up at him through tear-stained eyes, rubbing the back of her head.

"Well done," said the Emperor.

Luke dreaded the next order, the order to finish the job, but it never came.

"You disappoint me, Mara," he said. "Leave. Now."

Mara struggled to her feet. "I am sorry, Master," she said, head bowed. She slinked away in shame. Again, Luke felt a twinge of remorse. At the bottom of the stairs, he saw her lightsaber, unclaimed. Luke summoned it to his hand.

"Jade," he called.

She had reached the turbolift. She looked around.

"Take it."

Luke tossed the lightsaber to her. She caught it, gave him a quizzical look. A moment later, the turbolift arrived and she left.

"You showed mercy," said the Emperor.

Luke turned around. "It is her weapon."

"Not that," said the Emperor. "You were restrained. You could have killed her."

"I would have, had you told me to do so," said Luke.

"Take some initiative, boy," the Emperor snapped. He bared his teeth, yellow and crooked. "She presents a threat to you."

"I disagree," said Luke. "Her powers are pathetic compared to mine."

"Not her powers," said the Emperor. "Her body."

Luke was silent.

"You desire it," said the Emperor. "You desire _her._ "

"She is… attractive," said Luke lamely. He cringed. It felt bizarre to speak of this to his master. To anyone, for that matter. "Forgive me," he said. "This is a weakness."

"It could be," said the Emperor. "Or it could become a strength."

"It could?"

The Emperor closed his eyes. "I sense it within you," he said, purring. "Your passion. Your virility. It makes you powerful. It makes you hungry." He opened his eyes. The pale golden irises flashed. "You must harness this power."

"Harness it? How?"

"Your test," said the Emperor. "Make her yours."

"Make her… mine?" Luke echoed. "I don't understand."

"Don't you?"

Luke squirmed. "I… I don't –"

"Prove yourself to me, Skywalker," said the Emperor. "Dispel your diffidence. Embrace your power. This is the way of the Sith. When you want something, you take it. You want Jade. You want her body. Stake your claim. Make it yours!"

Luke looked away, fumbled with his collar. He couldn't do this. It was wrong.

"Do you disagree with my teaching?" asked the Emperor, low and ominous.

Luke shook his head by rote. "No, Master," he said. "I will do as you say."

The Emperor smiled. "Good."

~Δ~

Luke paced in his bedroom. Back and forth, agitated strides.

He couldn't possibly do this. It was wrong.

But the Emperor had been explicit. Luke could not defy him. His master would punish him, or worse. Is that what you want? To suffer?

_You deserve it._

There was the little voice in his head, whispering. It wasn't his voice. It was hers.

Leia. I'm sorry.

He had done it for her. Vader had threatened her. Luke killed him to protect her. And then, disgusted by what he had done, he swore allegiance to Palpatine. This way, she would be safe. From Vader. From the Emperor. From Luke himself. She was safe, and that was what mattered.

Luke had no care for himself anymore. He subjected himself to his master's torment, or, to use the proper euphemism, his teaching. He endured it. Yes Master. Thank you, Master. Whatever you say, Master. I am your slave, like my father before me.

_Kill him. Overthrow him. Do it!_

No, Leia. I can't.

_Why not?_

That's what he wants from me. If I do that, I'd be no better than him.

_But what if you do this? There's no turning back from this._

This is for you, Leia. I know you don't understand. I don't entirely understand it myself. But I have to do this. I have to lessen myself, sully myself. The Emperor must believe that I am his. He will have no interest in you as long as he has me as his subservient apprentice. So yes, Leia, this is for you. In a sick, convoluted way.

A new voice spoke. A darker voice. This voice was his own.

_You lie. Foolish boy. Despicable man. You lie._

No, thought Luke. This is the truth. I swear, I swear!

 _You_ want _to do this. You saw her. You crave her. You're using Leia to justify it. Just like when you killed your father. You didn't do it for her. You did it for you! You wanted to kill him, to get you revenge, to attain power! That's why you did it._

No! It's not true!

_Stop lying to yourself. Embrace who you really are._

_A monster. A murderer._

_A rapist._

Luke wanted to tear off his shirt, claw at his skin, bleed himself dry. It was the thing he abhorred most: himself. Is this how his father felt? Is this how Palpatine controlled people? By making them despise themselves?

That way, he could not hate Palpatine. Not as much as he hated himself. So he did as he was told. He bowed and groveled. What is the point in resisting? This is where you belong. This is what you deserve.

 _Yes_ , said Leia. _Now you understand._

I'm sorry.

Luke left his room. He marched down the halls, red with rage, blue with dismay. He was doing it. He would not defy his master.

And as he marched, Luke felt his heart pumping, his muscles tightening. It was excitement. Pure adrenaline, animalistic impulse. He pictured Mara. Her lithe figure, her supple body. He pictured her at his mercy.

 _See?_ said the voice. _This is who you are._

Yes, thought Luke. You're right.

Resigned, exhilarated, he arrived. He pounded his fist on the door. It opened. There she was, half a foot shorter. She sneered.

"Skywalker," she said. "Why are you here?"

Luke hesitated. She hadn't had time to change. She wore the same outfit as before. His eyes found the gash on her abdomen.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She looked at him like he was crazy. Luke blinked. Why had he asked that? He was here to hurt her, wasn't he?

"Leave," she said.

"No," said Luke.

Her hand went to the lightsaber on her belt, but Luke was too quick for her. He thrust out his mechanical hand. Mara went soaring back into her room. Luke entered, hand still raised. The door closed behind him. It was dark. Luke could only make out her outline, pinioned against the wall, struggling.

"Let me go!" she demanded.

Luke approached. He could see her more clearly now. Her pale skin was so bright, luminous. She spat at him.

"Now," said Luke, wiping his face clean with his free hand, "that is not how you treat your superiors."

"You are nothing," said Mara. "I deserve to be his apprentice! I am loyal! I am devoted!"

Luke tilted his head. "Don't you know?" he said. "You are nothing. A peon. The Emperor does not care about you any more than he cares about his dentistry." Luke laughed at his joke. Mara did not.

"Let me go," she said.

"I don't think so," said Luke. He stepped closer. With his left hand, he undid her belt, the lightsaber still attached, and tossed it aside. With his right hand, the metal one, he gently traced her cheek. "So beautiful," he said.

"Creep," said Mara.

Luke's face hardened. Removing his hand from her face, he pressed it to the wound on her ribs. Mara screamed.

"Resist me," he said, "and you will only get hurt." He got even closer, an inch of space between them, his hand palpating her wound. Mara whimpered. "Do not resist," said Luke, whispering in her ear. "It will be easier this way. For both of us."

"Go to hell," she said, and bit his ear.

Luke roared with pain. He punched her in the gut and Mara released him. He leapt back, touched his ear gingerly. Blood.

"How dare you!" he bellowed.

Mara doubled over. She gasped for air. He had hit her hard.

"I warned you," said Luke.

"What do you… want from me?" gasped Mara.

Luke forced her back against the wall. Tears streamed down her face.

"You know what I want," said Luke.

"No," said Mara. "Don't."

Luke did not listen. He grabbed the tear in her suit by her wound and pulled. The glossy material ripped, revealing her midriff. He grabbed her waistband and pulled again. The material gave way without hardly any resistance, showing him what wanted to see. Rip, tear, pull. Bit by bit, he disrobed her.

"Stop," she said weakly. "Please, stop."

Luke took a breast into his hand. They were soft and round. Perfectly shaped. He pinched the pert nipple with his metal fingers. Mara yelped.

"You have no idea," said Luke, "how much I want this."

"I hate you," said Mara.

Luke did not care. He already hated himself, so what did it matter to him what she thought?

"These won't do," said Luke. He yanked on her panties. The flimsy fabric snapped. Along with the rest of the flotsam and jetsam, Luke tossed it aside. "There," he said, looking her over hungrily. "Much better."

Her body was stunning. Her breasts a marvel, yes, but everything about her was a piece of art. Her toned arms, defined shoulders. Her flat stomach, a dipping cleft running from her sternum to her belly button, her abs a subtle contour. And even lower, her vulva. She was unshaven, a thicket of fiery red pubic hair.

"You're an angel," said Luke.

"Does that make you a devil?" said Mara.

Luke grinned impishly. He pulled his shirt over his head. He stared at her. She stared at him. In spite of himself, he flexed, his chest, his abs, his arms. He felt a primal desire to impress her, to make her want him as much as he wanted her. It was futile, of course. He was her abductor, not her lover. She would never look at him with arousal, with attraction, with endearment.

"On your knees," said Luke. He released her. She staggered a bit, covered herself up, one arm draped over her breasts, the other hiding her genitals.

"No," she said.

Luke undid his belt and pulled his pants to the floor. His cock sprang free, pointing at her belly button. Mara eyed it warily.

"I gave you an order," said Luke.

"Suck yourself," said Mara viciously. "I won't do it."

Luke stepped closer. She did not retreat, for she had nowhere to go. He took her shoulders. The tip of his penis brushed against her stomach. Luke felt a rush of anticipation, lightheaded, blood rushing to his burgeoning erection.

"You are mine," he said. "I do with you as I please." To prove it, Luke peeled away her arms, revealing herself to him again. He took her by the waist, pulling her closer, his penis flat against her stomach, pulsating. His greedy hands looped around to her ass, groping her cheeks. Mara's lip curled in revulsion as Luke, involuntarily, thrust against her stomach.

"I want my dick," he said, his voice husky, "in your mouth."

"Never," said Mara.

He rested his forehead against hers. "What about my lips against yours?" he asked, softer now. "What if I kissed you? What would you do?"

Mara was silent. Their eyes were locked; green and blue. She seemed to be frozen. Luke remained in motion, grinding, groping.

"I want to kiss you," said Luke.

So he did. She did not kiss back, but neither did she resist. Despite his lascivious intent, Luke kissed chastely. Her lips were warm and full. He pulled back.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he said.

"Get your hands off my ass," said Mara.

Luke obliged. Taking a step back, he clasped his hands around the narrowest part of her waist. His thumbs nearly met above her belly button.

"You're so small," he said. "I don't want to hurt you."

"And I don't want to suck you."

Luke shrugged. He could do without the blowjob. "Very well," he said.

Mara blinked in surprise. "Really?"

"Really," said Luke. He lifted her into the air. Mara's eyes went wide.

"Luke," she said urgently. Her feet kicked ineffectually against his thighs. "Luke, let me go. Skywalker!"

He spun her around, pirouetting as if they were performing a bizarre dance routine. Reaching the bunk, he threw her down onto the mattress. She tried to wriggle away, but Luke jumped on top of her.

"Don't resist," he said.

"Get off of me!"

Luke kept her down with his right hand. She grimaced with pain, the metal fingers digging into her collarbone. With his off hand, he reached for his penis, grasped it firmly by the base. She squirmed and writhed. The struggle excited him. He felt himself harden in his hands.

"You are mine," he said.

Finding her pussy, he rubbed the head of his penis against her clit, eliciting a gasp. Luke laughed, and it was an evil laugh. Like Palpatine.

"See?" he said. "You like it too."

He positioned his penis toward her opening. Mara shrieked when he penetrated her, impaled her, more like. With his metal hand, Luke pressed down even harder against her shoulder, and Mara whimpered. His eyes fluttered, his penis enveloped by a delicious heat. He grunted.

"You're perfect," he said, as he began to thrust. "You're so tight."

"You… you…" panted Mara. "Your dick is tiny."

Luke laughed again. "Is that what you think?" He bucked his hips, thrusting as deeply as he could into her, penis pressing against her cervix. She shut her eyes tight, in pain or in pleasure, he could not tell. Both, perhaps. The former, more likely.

Luke kissed her again. Passionately, this time. He fondled her breast with his free hand, broke the kiss only to suckle on her nipple, biting it gently. He continued to thrust with alacrity, in and out, faster and faster. Mara moaned. She tried not to, but it came out all the same.

"Why resist?" said Luke, planting kisses up and down her neck. "Who knows? You might even cum."

"Wow," breathed Mara. "You're some romantic."

Luke pushed himself up. He took her legs and spread them wide. Licking a flesh finger, he rubbed the pad to her clit. Mara tried in vain to hide her reaction, her pleasure.

Flesh slapped against flesh. The sound in and of itself was orgasmic. Luke knew he couldn't last much longer. He wanted to bring her to climax, to humiliate her, but he couldn't. She was resisting him too much, she wasn't comfortable nor willing. It made him feel ashamed, inadequate.

This isn't about her. This is about you! This is about claiming what belongs to you! Claim her, Skywalker! Claim her!

He felt his orgasm building. His breathing became ragged, his cock stiffened, an incredible sensation suffusing his body. At the last second, he pulled out of her, stroked himself over her body, moaned at his release. A jet of semen erupted from his cock onto the empty canvas beneath him. Rope after rope, he covered her, face, breasts, belly. When he was finished, Luke wiped himself clean against her clit. She was a mess. Some of his semen matted her hair. The rest glistened against her ivory flesh, milky pools of ejaculate on her belly, rivulets striping her chest, a dollop or two on her neck and chin. He stood over her, soaking in the sight. And as he looked down, Luke noticed blood on the tip of his penis.

"Gross," said Mara, wiping away some of the semen from her stomach. It stuck to her fingers. She attempted in vain to clean them against the sheets.

He had done what he intended to do. He had made her his, utterly subservient, humiliated. The thrill of the conquest quickly wore off. Luke felt horrible, sick. His eyes found the wound on her flank. With his flesh hand, he touched it, caressed it.

"I'm sorry," he said.

He spoke to her. He spoke to Leia. He spoke to his father.

I'm sorry.

"Just go," said Mara. "Just let me be, please."

Luke got off the bed. He found his pants and put them on. Next he put on his shirt. He reeked of sex, of semen. It nauseated him.

Mara stood up. She looked at him, in fear, for sure, yet also… in pity? Luke could not decipher her expression. She did not cover herself. She just looked at him, eyes searching his. Green probing blue.

"Well?" she said. "Are you satisfied?"

Luke did not answer. He fled the bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

Luke stood in front of the mirror in the fresher. He was shaving. His mind drifted, as did his eyes. Through the reflection, he looked at his ear. A med droid had had to apply three stitches where Mara bit him.

Luke sighed. It had been a whole week since The Incident, as he was calling it. The seven days in between had been some of the worst in his life. His skin felt itchy, unclean. His hatred for himself reached new peaks. Every time he thought about her, about what he did, he shuddered.

But worse than that, he felt arousal, excitement. The image burned in his mind: her on her back, covered in his cum. Sure enough, he felt himself harden, glancing down, a bulge in his pants. You're such an animal, thought Luke. He was like a pubescent boy all over again, sprouting erections left and right, unable to exert a modicum of control over himself, over his urges.

Maybe _that's_ what Palpatine wanted. This wasn't about empowering him. It was to debilitate him! To reduce him to an animal, a thoughtless tool, violent and aggressive, powerful yet unable to think for himself.

Luke hissed in pain. He'd nicked himself. Cursing, he ran the razor under the faucet. Blood dripped from his cheek into the bowl of the sink, spiraling down the drain. He watched it. He was reminded of Mara's blood, on the head of his penis.

He had taken her virginity. Luke couldn't know for certain, of course, but he was reasonably sure. That was just great, wasn't it? Another reason to hate himself.

He had read her file. There wasn't much there. No parents, no home world. She didn't even have a birthdate, just a year. She was a couple years younger than himself. Twenty-two, twenty-three maybe. How could it be that a beautiful woman like that was still a virgin? Luke had an idea. Palpatine kept her isolated, alone. She never got to have a normal life. She was under his heel. Just like Luke was now.

But Luke hadn't always been a slave. He had been free once. He had made friends, gone on adventures, fought the good fight. At the time he had been terrified, constantly on the run, constantly under threat of death, but in retrospect it had been the time of his life, that is, the only time he had really _been_ alive. These days, his heart continued to beat, he breathed in and out, but he wasn't alive. Not really. His life belonged to someone else.

Mara's life had never been her own. And that made him sad. She probably didn't even know what she was missing. She was devoted to her master, because that was all she had. And now Luke entered her life, abused her, tormented her. What would she do? Take it. She would make a big show of struggling, but to what end? He knew he could break her, because in a way, she was already broken. Palpatine had done all the hard work for him.

But Luke didn't want to break her. From a purely selfish reason, he wanted her to struggle, to resist. It excited him. But no, Luke wasn't going to do that again. He wouldn't force himself on her. Unless his master said that he had to…

Because he would, wouldn't he? Luke hadn't passed his test, not yet. Palpatine would know that he hadn't. He had shown remorse. Just like when he had returned her lightsaber to her after their duel. Luke had felt bad about what he had done. Even in the heat of passion, he had felt remorse. Why else would he have pulled out of her? Ejaculated on her body rather than inside of her. To humiliate her, yes, but also because, deep down, he didn't want to claim her, not like that. Of course the idea thrilled him, the animal inside of him. Thrusting deep inside of her, depositing his seed in her womb. But if he did that, he would be designating her as his slave, his concubine. That was the line he drew. He would hurt her. He would rape her. He would humiliate her. But he wouldn't claim her as his woman, as his property.

But that's what Palpatine had asked him to do. "Make her yours." And Luke desperately wanted to do just that. But he had learned something about himself. Luke had long suppressed it, never deeming it prudent, in fact regarding it as dangerous. But now it had reared to a head. He was a romantic. He yearned to love, and to be loved. That was the most human desire of all.

_Oh, so you're a human, now? I thought you were a monster._

Those aren't mutually exclusive, Leia.

_Yes they are._

You're stubborn.

_You're an idiot._

I miss you.

She was silent. Luke left the fresher, sat on his bunk, held his face in his hands. Where are you, Leia, when I need you most? My one and only remaining friend. Everyone else was dead. She alone had escaped. How? He must have communicated it to her, somehow. _Get out! Leave Endor, now!_ He sensed that she had. She was still alive somewhere.

So what? He would never see her again. She was gone. As dead as Han, as Obi-Wan, as Yoda, as Biggs, as Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, as Lando, as Wedge…

Stop it. This could go on all day. There wasn't anything you could do to bring them back. And even if you could, you wouldn't. Because they would all hate you for what you have become.

His thoughts returned to Mara. Was it wrong of him to smile, to feel a swelling in his chest, independent of the one in his pants, when he thought of her?

 _Yes,_ said Leia. _It's very wrong._

Maybe, but he couldn't pretend like he didn't feel it. She made him feel alive. She made him feel pain, not muted and dull, but sharp and trenchant. It was exhilarating! To feel this hurt, to feel this life! Oh, how he missed it. He was a masochist, wasn't he? Better that than be a misanthrope. He would rather feel pain than feel numb, rather grief than emptiness.

Hurt me, Mara! Hurt me like I hurt you.

_You're sick._

Yes, thought Luke. Yes, I am.

He stood up, paced. What did he want, exactly? He couldn't quite articulate it to himself. Did he want Mara to love him? Because if so, that was a fool's errand. Maybe he just wanted her not to hate him. How pathetic. In his mind, he equated the two. If someone didn't hate him, he thought they loved him. Leia did. She didn't hate him, even after everything. Or so he hoped.

But Mara _did_ hate him. She had said it to his face. And nothing he could do would change that. He could try, but Mara was not obliged to listen. He had raped her! She wanted nothing to do with him.

Yet Luke wanted everything to do with her. He was obsessed. That was it. He'd finally found the word. He wasn't in love. How could he be? He barely knew her. But he was obsessed with her. With her body, with her spirit. He wanted to touch her, to kiss her, and make love to her. Or perhaps those were only secondary and tertiary desires. Maybe what he really wanted…

Was a friend.

That's not right. You don't have such prurient thoughts for a friend. But that was beside the point. He was lonely. Achingly so. For nearly a year, he had gone without human connection. He spoke to no one but Palpatine, and he could hardly be considered human. That's why Leia spoke to him. He had created her voice so he wouldn't be quite so alone. And now here was Mara. Beautiful, desirable, but above all else, a fellow human.

And more than that, a _similar_ human. She and Luke were stuck in the same thralldom; they were slaves to the same master. It was only natural that they might bond. Palpatine had been ahead of the curve, though. He had ordered Luke to rape her so he and Mara would not ally themselves against him. Ingenious, truly. Palpatine was always three steps ahead of the rest.

 _Well?_ said Leia. _What are you going to do about it?_

What do you mean?

_You're just going to let him win?_

He already has. He always wins.

_Only because you let him._

She had a point. Had he been smarter, Luke never would have followed his master's order. He would not have laid a finger on Mara. Palpatine would have punished him for insubordination, but Luke would not have harmed the only person in the whole galaxy who might love him.

The other voice spoke.

_But you enjoyed it._

Luke ignored him.

_I know you can hear me. I'm you, remember?_

Go away.

_You ravaged her body. You want to do it again. Right now. Do it. What's stopping you?_

I am. I'm in control, not you.

 _I_ am _you._

No.

_Yes._

Leia! Help me!

 _There's still a chance,_ she said.

A chance for what?

_To apologize._

What good would that do?

_What harm would it do?_

Another good point. Leia was very smart.

 _And you are very foolish,_ said the other voice _. Stop pretending to be someone you aren't. Obi-Wan lied to you. Yoda lied to you. Your father was a monster. You are a monster, too._

Shut up!

_Go to her room. Make her yours. You know you want to._

I do. Desperately.

 _No, Luke!_ said Leia. _Don't do it!_

I won't. I can't.

_You can. You will._

We'll see about that.

Luke left the room.

~Δ~

Knock, knock, knock.

Come on, I know you're there. Open up, Mara. Please. I just want to talk.

But she doesn't know that. She was probably cowering in the corner, praying he doesn't break the door down.

Luke decided it was best to give up and try another day. If he kept coming, it would prove to her that he didn't want to hurt her. But just as he turned to leave, the door slid open. Mara was not standing in the frame. It was empty. He took a tentative step forward.

"Mara?" he called. "Are you there?"

He entered the room. It seemed empty. He turned his head, and felt a sharp prick in his neck.

"Ow!"

He staggered forward. Touching his neck, he found a small dart. He pulled it out.

"Mara?" he said, his voice slurred.

There she was. To his left, hidden in the shadows, a blowgun in her hands.

"Feeling drowsy?" she said.

Luke blinked. His eyelids felt heavy.

"Mara," he said again.

She set the blowgun aside, reared back, and kicked him in the face. Luke was unconscious before he hit the ground.

~Δ~

Ow.

His head pounded. Luke groaned. He tried to rub his forehead, to alleviate the pain, but he couldn't move his arms. They were restrained by something. His eyes flew open.

"What the…?"

He was naked. Spread-eagle on his back. Where was he? How had he gotten here?

"It's a bit nippy."

"Mara?"

He remembered. She had shot him.

"What… what are you doing?"

She emerged from the shadows. In her hand was a wand of sorts, Luke couldn't tell in the semidarkness. She gave it a twirl.

"What did you expect me to do?" she said. "Let you do whatever it is you were going to do?"

"I wasn't going to do anything," said Luke. "I just wanted to talk."

Mara laughed. Humorless.

"I don't believe that for a second."

"I know you don't," said Luke. "But please, just hear me out."

She was silent.

"Look." Luke tried as best he could to sit up. His limbs, he realized, were immobilized by energy binders. "About what happened last week… what are you doing?"

Mara stripped of her nightgown and threw it aside. "What does it look like I'm doing?" she said.

Luke's mouth felt very dry. His penis, flaccid up until now, twitched. She stood at the foot of the bed in her underwear, her bra and panties matching shades of grey.

"I, um…" Luke swallowed hard. "Why are you… doing that?"

Mara did not answer. She walked around the side of the bed, and as she did, Luke got a clearer look at what she was holding. It was a taser.

"Wait just a second," he said, struggling in vain against his restraints. "You don't want to do that."

"Oh?" said Mara. "Don't I?"

She pressed a button. The taser crackled to life, bright white electricity pulsing.

"Mara," said Luke. "Listen to me."

"Go ahead," she said, and climbed on to the bed. Luke went very still when she straddled him. His cock was fully hard now, raging against the fabric of her panties. "What are you waiting for?" asked Mara. "Speak."

He could not.

"If that's how it's going to be," said Mara. "So be it." With a violent thrust, she jammed the taser into Luke's ribs. He stifled a scream. "Hurts, doesn't it?" Mara growled. She deactivated the taser. Luke gasped for breath.

"Don't… don't…"

"Don't what?" Mara leaned down, her face inches from his. Her breath was hot on his cheek. In a moment of bizarre impulse, of electric excitement, Luke felt the urge to kiss her. He pulled himself upward as much as his restraints would allow and pressed his lips to hers.

He felt a second shock of pain against his rib cage. Mara pulled away, slapped him across the face. "What is wrong with you?" she said.

"I like kissing you," said Luke with a dreamy smile.

Mara stared at him incredulously. She tased him a third time. Luke was prepared for it. He barely reacted, but for a slight wince.

"You know," he said, "you get used to the pain after a while. You tell yourself it's just a tickle and it just… melts away."

"Yes," said Mara, distantly. "It does."

They looked at each other.

"How often does he torture you?" asked Luke.

"Often."

"Your whole life?"

"My whole life."

"I'm sorry."

Mara did not speak. It was an odd sort of silence. Luke was still aware of his cock against her panties. She radiated sensual heat. In spite of himself, he moved his hips, rubbing against her. He expected to be tased. He was not. Mara continued to stare at him. Luke stared right back, unblinking. She began to move, slowly, matching his thrusts with thrusts of her own. Luke couldn't help it. He moaned.

"Hey!" snapped Mara. "Stop it!"

"What?" said Luke. "You were liking it."

Only now did Mara seem to realize the position she was in, and she blushed a deep shade of crimson. Had she really not realized? She backed away, Luke's cock emerging from underneath her heat. She looked at it. It looked back, saluting.

"Well?" said Luke. "Are you going to suck it?"

Mara looked at him with fire in her eyes. "You're such a pervert!" she said.

"You're the one in charge here," said Luke. "You stripped me naked and strapped me to a bed. And somehow I'm the pervert?"

"This isn't about sex," said Mara. "This is about revenge."

Luke smiled salaciously. "If this is revenge, I like it. I like it very much."

She tased him again, this time ramming the wand against his testicles. Luke couldn't pretend he didn't feel the pain this time. He howled, vision blurring, back arching.

"That'll teach you," said Mara.

"Teach me… teach me what?" asked Luke, panting.

She didn't know. Luke chuckled, grimaced.

"You don't know what you're doing," he said. "You wanted to humiliate me? Too bad. I don't feel shame. Clearly not. What type of a rapist feels shame?"

Mara flinched at the word. Luke felt a sharp pang at her reaction, the vicious knife of remorse. It was more painful than the taser.

Okay, maybe not. But still, it hurt.

"I'm going to do to you the same thing you did to me," said Mara.

"Oh, so you're going to rape me?" asked Luke. "By all means, hop on. I won't object, truly."

Mara sneered. "I'm not going to _pleasure_ you," she said.

"You already are," said Luke. "Can't you see?" He flexed his erection.

"Ugh," said Mara. "You're vile."

"You're beautiful."

"Do you really think that sort of flattery is going to work?"

"I got you in your underwear, didn't I?'

Mara stood up from the bed. In an angry motion, she pulled down her panties. Luke arched a brow.

"Oh," he said. "Very nice."

"Shut up," she said.

"Yes, my lady."

She clambered back on to the bed, sidled on top of him.

"Are we getting to the part where I'm supposed to not enjoy what's happening?" asked Luke. "Because I'm finding this all to be very enjoyable."

"Do you ever stop talking?" asked Mara.

"Hmm," said Luke, eyes tracing her figure, north to south. "I can think of a few activities which don't require words."

"So can I," said Mara.

"Ooh," said Luke.

She stood up. He looked up at her, right at the russet bush between her legs.

"You know, I'm honored," said Luke, "to be the only other person to know."

"To know what?" asked Mara.

"That the curtains match the drapes."

Mara's jaw twitched. "Enough," she said. "Talking time's over."

"If you say so," said Luke.

He wished he hadn't spoken, because when Mara unexpectedly sat on his face, Luke didn't have any oxygen.

"What was that?" said Mara, burrowing her fingers in his hair, dragging her nails against his scalp. "I can't hear you."

"Umf," said Luke in response.

"That's right," said Mara. "You're mine, now."

Luke was okay with that. His tongue flicked eagerly at her labia, at her clit. She was wet. She was enjoying this.

"Yes," said Mara, moaning. "That's… good. That's…"

She stopped herself. She must have remembered that she wasn't supposed to be having fun. The whole point was to humiliate Luke. But it wasn't unfolding that way. Luke wasn't humiliated. Far from it, he was delighted. Mara experienced no catharsis. She was frustrated. But as Luke continued to pleasure her, lapping and licking, she began to melt. He felt her resolve wither – through the Force, through her touch. Rather than digging her fingernails into his scalp like she had been doing before, she began carding his hair, touching him tenderly, in gratitude, providing him motivation. Yes, like that. Right there.

Luke was more than happy to oblige. She began to make noises, small, restrained. She didn't want him to hear. But Luke did hear. It was so sexy. He felt ready to explode, unstimulated as he may be. His penis throbbed, ached, begged.

Mara began to tremble. Her thighs quivered against his freshly shaved cheeks. Luke tried to keep pace. His jaw and tongue were horribly sore by now. But he persisted. Anything for her. This time, he would make her cum. This time, he would do right by her.

She squealed, grabbed his head and pulled him as closely to herself as she could. Her pubic hair tickled his nose. Luke couldn't breathe. He didn't care. He felt her stiffen, legs clasping around him like a vice, and release. Her juices, like nectar, gushed from her pulsing pussy. Luke was content to stay there forever, drinking her in, but Mara quickly removed herself from his face. He watched as she slipped off the side of the bed. Her whole body was shaking. Perhaps unwittingly, she touched herself, rubbing circular motions. To calm herself, maybe, riding out the wave.

"I'm glad my face could be of service," said Luke.

She shot him a withering glare.

"If I may offer a suggestion," said Luke. "Call a truce."

"A truce?" echoed Mara. Her voice was high, her face flushed.

"Short of killing me, there's really no way for you to get even."

"So maybe I'll kill you."

"You can't," said Luke. "Palpatine would be furious."

"No he wouldn't," said Mara. "He rewards ambition."

"Only when it doesn't contradict his own."

"What do you know?"

"I know I'm his most valued possession. He had Darth Vader, the most feared man in the galaxy, yet he chose me to replace him. Not you. Me."

Mara looked away. She knew he was right.

"He made me do it, you know."

Mara's brow twitched.

"That's what I came to tell you," said Luke, softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you. But he made me. He ordered me to rape you. I had no choice."

"You lie," said Mara. "Why would he ever tell you to do such a thing?"

"To divide us," said Luke. "He wants you to hate me."

"I do," said Mara automatically.

"No you don't," said Luke.

Mara snapped. "Don't tell me what to think!" she yelled.

"You're attracted to me," said Luke.

"I am not –"

"Not because of my body. Although I can tell you like what you see. I assure you, the feeling's mutual." To emphasize the point, he licked his lips, still wet with her discharge. "You're attracted to me because I'm the only person in the galaxy who can empathize with you."

Mara bit her lip. As if remembering her immodesty, several minutes too late, her hands darted to her groin, covering herself up. Luke smirked. We're a long way past that, aren't we?

"Look," said Luke. "I feel horrible about what I did. I mean that, truly. You can sense that I'm being honest, can't you?"

Mara did not speak.

"I don't want to hurt you," said Luke.

"You already did," said Mara. "I won't forgive you. I can't."

"I understand," said Luke. "But here's the thing."

Mara waited.

"I can't… show you sympathy."

"What are you talking about?"

"Palpatine," said Luke. "He'll know."

"So?"

"He'll punish me for defying him."

"Not my problem," said Mara.

"But it is," said Luke. "If he thinks I'm soft on you, he has two options. Eliminate me. Or eliminate you. We both know what he would choose."

Mara wilted like a flower.

"Oh," she said, and her eyes welled with tears.

"Don't do that," said Luke. "Please don't cry."

"I just… feel so useless. I'm always someone else's pawn."

"I know," said Luke. "I'm sorry."

"No you're not," said Mara viciously. "You're just another one of them, manipulating me, controlling me."

"I don't want to."

"But you do."

"Not if you don't let me."

"I hate you."

"But you could love me."

"I won't. Never."

Luke sighed. "That is your choice," he said. "And I respect it. But please, I beg you, consider my offer."

"What is your offer, exactly?"

"To be my friend."

"That's all?"

"My lover?"

"That's what I thought."

"My partner."

"I don't think so," said Mara. "You don't have any respect for me. I'm just an object to you."

"You're right," said Luke. "But I want you to be more. I want to love you, Mara. Doesn't that count for something?"

"No."

Luke felt a rumbling in his chest, a growl of frustration. He knew what was going to happen. It was avoidable. Mara had the power to prevent it, but she wouldn't.

And he couldn't blame her. Not at all. She only had two options, and both were terrible: either she forgave her rapist, and learned to love him, or she continued to struggle, to resist, and suffered because of it.

"I'll give you one last chance," said Luke, because he prayed she would change her mind.

"Don't bother," said Mara. "I'm not forgiving you. Forget it."

"Then release me from these binders."

Mara tensed.

"You have to. What are you going to do? Leave me here in perpetuity?"

"I could."

"Release me."

"Luke, you don't have to do this."

"I do. I told you why."

"But… but…"

"Release me, Mara."

A minute passed. Then another. She did not want to do it. Neither did he.

Finally, she approached the bedside, leaned over. Her fingers brushed against his metal ones. She undid the first binder, then moved to his right ankle. She undid that one. Walked over to the left side of the bed. Undid the ankle binder. Then finally the wrist. Luke was free.

Mara backed away from him, retreating into the shadows. Luke stood up and stretched his back, curling his wrists and flexing his legs. He felt so very stiff, in more than one sense. His erection was back. It pointed at Mara.

"Now what?" she said.

"Take off your bra."

"I don't want to."

"Don't do this, Mara," said Luke. "Don't resist me."

She undid the bra, dropped it to the floor.

"Good," said Luke, approaching. She backed herself against the wall. She looked so small.

"Don't touch me," said Mara feebly. Luke ignored her. He took both breasts into his hands, squeezed them.

"Kiss me," said Luke.

"No," said Mara.

"Have you ever kissed a man before?"

He could see that she had not.

"This could be wonderful," said Luke, leaning close, his nose against hers. "We could be lovers." He kissed her. She didn't kiss back.

"Luke," she said when he pulled away. "Don't do this."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry."

He picked her up, like she weighed nothing, and tossed her over his shoulder. He carried her to the bunk. She clawed his flesh, kicked his back. It did not faze him. She screamed. She cried. He threw her onto the mattress.

"I want you," said Luke, "more than I've ever wanted anything."

"No," said Mara, whimpering. "I'm not yours."

"You will be."

She flipped over, attempting to crawl off the other side of the bed. Luke grabbed her legs, held her in place. She put up a valiant effort, but Luke was too strong, too powerful. He planted his forearm against her back, pinning her to the bed. He rotated her ninety-degrees so she was facing the headrest, and climbed onto the bunk himself. He positioned himself over her, a knee on either side. She was flat against the mattress, prone. He had to spread her cheeks to access her opening. And when he did, Luke did not hesitate. He forced himself inside her. Mara whined. Luke moaned. She was still wet from earlier.

"Oh, Mara," he said, thrusting. "I love your body. Your ass." He gave it a slap, the mark of his hand red against her white flesh. "Your hair." He took a handful and pulled. Mara made a disgruntled sound as she was lifted upward, back arched. "Your tits." As they were no longer hidden against the mattress, Luke cupped her right breast with his metal hand, no doubt cold against her skin. "Especially your tits."

He pummeled her. In this position, he could get that much deeper. He felt her tightening around him, clenching him. She grit her teeth, made pathetic sounds which somehow aroused him further. _Slap slap slap._ A sensual percussion, her ass rippling as his pubic bone slammed into her. He released her hair and Mara flopped onto the mattress, limp. Luke did not relent. He could not. His hips, his hands, acted independently from himself. He watched in horror, in excitement, as he ravaged her, or rather _it_. He ceased to think of the woman beneath him as a woman. She was merely a plaything, a voluptuous body for him to enjoy. Her muffled pleas for him to stop went unheard, the tears she shed went unnoticed.

If it was of any solace, the punishment did not last long. Five minutes at most. Luke had too much pent up sexual energy from the past week to hold himself back. His body needed this release, and he needed it now. He placed his hands on the small of her back, flattening her petite body against the mattress. He picked up the pace, threw back his head in the most primal of manners. He belted out her name.

"Mara!"

With one last thrust, as deep as he could go, he ejaculated. His penis pulsated, again and again, rope after rope, filling her with his seed, inundating her womb. Only when his orgasm finally subsided and he pulled out of her, a gush of semen spilling from her vagina, did he realize what he had done.

Mara was sobbing. "I'm not… on the pill," she said, her body racked with spasms. "Why would you do that?"

"Because," said Luke, "you are mine."

So much for drawing the line.

He found his clothes in the corner and quickly got changed. He left her there, crying softly, utterly defeated, utterly alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That wasn't a happy ending, was it? We'll see. Next chapter might end better (hard to see how it couldn't). Either way, thank you kindly for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

Torture became routine.

The Emperor trained him hard. He was merciless. Whenever Luke made a mistake, he would electrocute him.

 _Pain builds strength!_ he would say.

Luke gritted his teeth and took it. He did not object, for he had no objections. In fact, he relished the pain. It felt right.

Most nights, Luke would go to Mara's room and do with her as he pleased. She wouldn't struggle so much anymore. She would just lie there and take it. Luke would finish inside her, always inside her, and then leave. They hardly ever spoke. They did not look each other in the eye. They simply… fucked.

It didn't give him any satisfaction. He felt no thrill anymore. Only dread. But he had to keep doing it. And he had to be violent. Mara was battered and bruised; he handled her roughly. That was what the Emperor would see. Whenever he asked, perversely fascinated, Luke would allow him to see what he had done the night before. He welcomed his master into his mind, shared with him the images, salacious and crude.

He kept some things hidden, however. Such as all the times he kissed her, in hope that she might someday kiss back.

"Mara," he would plead with her. "It doesn't have to be this way."

"I hate you," she would say. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you."

Luke would cry. He would scream. He had taken to self-flagellation. Perhaps he relished pain too much. It was all he could do to keep himself sane. In his room, the lights low, he whipped his back, saw Leia, standing above him, crying at what had become of him.

I'm sorry, he told her. I miss you. I love you.

She would not reply. Leia did not speak to him anymore. But he felt her presence all the same, judging him, despising him.

He reached a breaking point. His master summoned him. Luke, in his cowardice, fell to his knees at the Emperor's feet.

"I'm sorry, Master," he said. "I can't do it. I can't."

The Emperor was not forgiving.

How long the torture lasted, Luke did not know. All he knew was that when it was over, Luke did not feel cleansed. He did not feel any better about himself. He limped out of the throne room, and, by impulse, went to Mara's room. He could barely stand. He knocked and leaned against her door. When it opened, he fell into her arms.

"Luke!"

"Mara," he said. "Mara, please. Mara."

"What happened?" she asked.

"Mara."

It was all he could say. It was all he wanted.

She dragged him into the room and deposited him on her bed. He did not stir as she took off his clothes.

"Luke," she said, gasping "Your back."

Her finger traced the scars which twisted down his spine like a vine.

"Mara," he said.

She should kill him. This was her chance. He was indisposed. She could take her lightsaber, hell, she could take _his_ lightsaber, and finish the job. But she wouldn't. She feared retribution from their master.

"Please, Mara," said Luke. He sobbed into the pillow. "Forgive me. Forgive me."

"Rest," said Mara.

"Leia," said Luke. "Forgive me."

"Rest."

He closed his eyes.

And when he opened them again, Luke saw her. She was asleep, lying peacefully on her side. Red hair framed her face, lit ablaze by the morning sunlight streaming through the filtered windows. He looked at her. Her lips, her nose, her skin.

He wanted to touch her. Really touch her. Not like he had been, callused and cruel. With a tentative finger, he traced her face. He followed the curve of her jaw, down her neck and along her collarbone. She wore a silken nightgown. Luke's finger slipped under the strap and pulled it over her shoulder. He pushed himself upright, wincing in pain. But he was too dedicated to the task at hand to care. He undid the other strap. Pulled. Her breasts popped free. He felt a rush of excitement. He pulled the dress down further. Her stomach unveiled, and then her vulva. Mara was awake by now, but she didn't say anything. She didn't move. He lifted her gently to slip the dress off her legs.

They were both naked now, Luke atop her, his erection hovering above her slit. But he did not force himself inside her. He leaned down to kiss her. Not her lips, but her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. Gently, lips barely grazing her skin. He stopped over each bruise and scar, kissed them all.

"Luke," said Mara.

He shushed her. "Don't speak," he said.

She blinked at him. Her face was not resigned; there was no disgust in her eyes. He wondered, fleetingly, if she was even awake at all. And then he wondered if _he_ was awake. This all seemed like a dream. Because he felt no pain now. He felt nothing but warmth, the sun on his back, her body against his.

He pushed himself upright. Taking her legs, he spread them wide. Mara did not offer any resistance. He touched her, tenderly, tentatively. A single finger. Mara stiffened. He rubbed her labia, up to her clit, paused, and back down. He pressed at her opening but did not enter.

"Mara," he said. "Do you want this?"

She didn't know what to say. She looked at him through her legs, lips parted.

"I… I don't know."

Luke retracted his finger. He set himself down on his stomach, legs dangling off the bed, and pulled her closer to him. He did not touch her. He released a breath, hot against her skin. She shuddered.

"Mara?" he said.

"Yes," she said. "I want it."

Luke obliged.

His tongue responded to her writhing, doing what she wanted, hitting the spots which set her off. She whimpered, a hand pulling on his hair, the other flat against the headrest. He looked up. She was gorgeous.

"Mara," he said.

"Luke," she said in response. "Oh."

He inserted a metal finger. She shivered.

"Is that okay?" he asked.

She closed her eyes and nodded. He felt her tighten against his finger. He pushed deeper. With the tip of his tongue, he pressed against her clit. She throbbed against him.

"Luke," she moaned.

He loved his name on her lips. He loved his lips on her.

He inserted a second finger. He curled them inside her, twisting in every which way. His one regret was that he could not feel her heat, her wetness. His metal hand had no sense of touch.

"Luke!"

He thrust his fingers faster, licked her clit with greater urgency. She trembled, stiffened. And then, all at once, she dissolved. She threw her head back and screamed, for once, in pleasure. Luke did not stop, prolonging her orgasm, carrying her as long as she could go. Until finally her whole body went limp, her walls stopped constricting, her fingers desisted from his scalp. He pulled the two fingers out of her and dragged them up her stomach. A glistening trail of her wetness followed. The adventurous fingers found her nipple, and they gave it a pinch. It must have been sensitive, because Mara gasped.

"Luke," she breathed.

He clambered on top of her again. They looked at each other. After a minute, Mara spoke.

"You're not going to…?"

"What?"

"You know."

He did know.

"Do you want me to?" he asked.

"No," said Mara. "I don't."

"Then I won't."

But he did not move. He wanted, more than anything, to penetrate her, to be enfolded in her tight heat. But he wouldn't. She did not want him to.

"Luke," she said.

"Mara," he said.

And then, in perfect unison, their lips met. Luke kissed her and she kissed back, with soft passion, with simmering desire. It was more wonderful than he could have possibly imagined. He sucked on her lower lip, and she sucked on his. Their tongues danced furtively. Neither knew quite what they were doing. Yet that did not stop them. Time stood still as they experimented. Luke did not ever want to pull back, but finally he did. He did not smile. Neither did she. They stared at each other.

"Mara."

"Luke."

That was all. He did not say what he wanted to say. He knew she wouldn't accept it. He knew he didn't have the right to say it. Even if it was true.

I love you.

"I should go."

Luke tried to sit up, but Mara wrapped her arms around the back of his neck.

"No," she said. "Stay."

"I can't."

"Please."

He looked at her. He wanted to kiss her again. He did not.

"I have to tell you something," said Mara.

Luke remained silent. Mara seemed anxious.

"Luke," she said. "I'm pregnant."

At first, he didn't react. He stared at her, not understanding. Then the weight of this news hit him. He buckled.

"Oh… oh no," he said. His stomach roiled. His face was sweaty and his forearms shook. "That's… no."

"Luke," said Mara, pleading.

He pulled away from her, staggering off the bed and to his feet. He searched the room for his clothes.

"You can't be… you can't –"

"Luke!"

He turned to her. She was still on the bed, sitting up on her knees.

"You can't run away from this," she said.

That's exactly what he wanted to do.

"I… I don't want…" he said, stammering. "I didn't –"

"Neither did I," said Mara. "But it happened."

He looked at her stomach. At her womb. He felt another wave of nausea.

"This can't… I can't…"

"Luke, listen to me," said Mara. "I don't know if I want this baby. I certainly didn't ask for it. But maybe…"

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe it can be a good thing."

Luke shook his head emphatically. "No," he said. "No. It's wrong. This is all wrong."

"I know it is, but –"

"You don't deserve this. I forced it on you."

"Yes. You did."

Luke couldn't bear to look at her. He covered his eyes with his hand and turned away.

"Luke, please." He heard her get off the bed. She walked over to him and grabbed his left wrist. She pressed his hand to her belly. "Luke," she said. "This is you and me. It's what you wanted, isn't it?"

Luke felt her warmth, burning against his flesh.

"Not like this," he said.

"Nothing ever happens the way we want it," said Mara. She released his wrist and took his face into her hands. She stood up on her toes, and Luke thought she was going to kiss him again. Instead, she asked, "What are we going to do?"

I don't know. How could I possibly know?

"Mara," he said. He let his hand slip from her midsection. "I'm sorry. I can't."

He took her hands and removed them from his face. Turning around, he found his clothes in the corner, and quickly got changed.

"So that's it?" said Mara. "You're running away?"

Luke didn't answer. He couldn't breathe.

"Luke! Look at me!"

He could not.

He ran.

~Δ~

How many days had passed? Two? Three? Time was meaningless. He did not leave his room. He lived in abnegation, unable to eat or sleep. He stared at the walls. He stared at the ceiling. He stared at his reflection.

And saw nothing but her.

Why had she kissed him? That made it all the more horrible. Because now Luke could indulge the fantasy that maybe she loved him too. It was wrong of him to even consider. He did not deserve her affection, nor did he deserve to be the father of her child.

He had been warped by darkness. Palpatine had molded him into this monster. Someone who could justify the most heinous of crimes, someone who indulged their most primal desires. An animal, rabid and violent.

She couldn't love him. She shouldn't. And yet she took his face into her hands and pleaded with him, Don't leave me. Stay and raise this child with me. It was a proposal, not of marriage, per se, but of partnership. It was everything he ever wanted. A friend. A lover. A partner.

He couldn't accept. Because Mara didn't love him, not in the way he loved her. He had backed her into a corner, and she was taking the only palatable option. And at that, it made Luke want to vomit. Just think about it. She sought a rapprochement with her rapist because he had forcibly impregnated her! It was horrific! It was savage. Mara didn't deserve this. No one did. She should terminate the pregnancy. That was the only solution.

But Luke knew that wasn't an option. Palpatine would not allow it. This baby was an asset to him, and Palpatine did not let assets slip through his fingers. He took advantage of everything. That was how he won.

He always won. What point was there in resisting? Everything Luke did seemed to play directly into his hands. Perhaps the best thing to do was nothing at all. Or better yet, stay in this room and starve himself to death. Then at least he wouldn't have to live in this nightmare any longer.

No. You are irrelevant. She is all that matters. He had to free her from Palpatine. That way she could run far, far away. Away from Palpatine, and away from Luke. She would terminate the unwanted pregnancy and begin a new life. A free life. A fair life.

The only surefire way to do it would be to kill Palpatine. But then the age-old question returned. If I kill Palpatine, what would become of myself? He had seen what his primal self was capable of. Rape, murder, and violence. If he killed the Emperor, Luke knew he would surrender to those impulses. He would demand that Mara stay. Deep down, he knew he didn't want her to be free. He wanted her to be with him. He would make sure the baby came to term, thereby tethering her to him. He would make her his wife, in reality his slave, and keep her shackled with a ball and chain.

So here was the dilemma. Palpatine must die, but Luke must die as well. Murder suicide? A good idea in theory, yet Luke knew he wasn't strong enough to do it. He was too much of a coward to pull off the second part of the equation, and even the first wasn't an easy task either. Palpatine would not be easily defeated. He would see Luke coming from parsecs away.

But he could do it. He could kill Palpatine in the same way he killed Vader: by delving into the darkness to protect the one he loved. When Vader had threatened Leia, Luke had become empowered to kill him. And since Palpatine was threatening Mara, Luke knew he would have the strength to kill him as well. Yet again, the dilemma arose. It is that very strength which makes you so weak. It unleashes the monster within. What might Master Yoda say to him now? If a strength is also a weakness, then it is not a strength at all. He would have to find another way.

But no ideas came to him. Luke sat on his bed, growing hungrier and angrier. He whipped himself until he grew too tired to do even that. He was depleted, defeated, desperate. He thought of her.

Mara.

Forgive me.


End file.
